Dialects and Dialing Sequences
by RogueWitch
Summary: Willow has been working for the new Watcher's Council translating documents, now she has been offered a job with the SGC, and Dr. Daniel Jackson has taken a special intrest in her work.
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: I own nothing, Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Stargate are owned by their respective owners, who are not me...if they where owned by me I would have droped out of college by now!

AN: Please review, its like candy, I just can't get enough.

Dialects and Dialing Sequences

Part 1: Texts

I turned the page in the text I was looking through; it was written mostly in Ancient Egyptian, a language that I had a tenuous hold on at best. Giles had called several weeks before, hoping that I could decipher some of the odd symbols that peppered the material. I sighed; I had been reading the text for almost a week, but without any understanding of the symbols that interrupted the hieroglyphs. The desk around me was covered in papers, both with my own renditions of the symbols, and any reference that I could come up with that would help me to understand them. Looking over what a mess I had made of my study, I shut the book, being careful to leave a marker in the place I had just finished reading, and walked out of my study and into my new kitchen.

After the end of Sunnydale, I had become a chief researcher for the new Watchers Council, choosing to live in a small town in Vermont, well away from everything, in order to have the peace I needed to do my work affectively. Even after years of doing my research in the library at Sunnydale High, and later in the Summer's living room, I still preferred the quiet of my own space. So while everyone else moved to active Hellmouths around the world, and Giles rebuilt the Council, I chose to live just outside of Burlington Vermont. Close enough to the college that I could easily have access to the faculty there, and work as a visiting expert on Ancient Linguistics for the Anthropology department, but far enough away that I couldn't hear the parties going on around campus.

I dialed Giles number, hoping that he would still be awake. It was about seven thirty in the evening in Vermont, which meant it would be about twelve thirty in London. It wouldn't be crazy to assume that Giles would be up, with all the things that he had to do to get the new council up and running.

"Hello?" A sleepy voice answered the phone, not being necessarily asleep, but one that was very tired. The small feminine voice belonged to Dawn, who was going to school in London and living with Giles, while Buffy spent her time traveling from Hellmouth to Hellmouth, checking up on things.

"Hey, Dawnie, is Giles still up?"

"Willow! Yeah, I guess, he's not even home yet. He spends so much time at the council that I feel like I'm living on my own here. The only thing that reminds me that he's living with me is that my lunch is packed for school every morning. But, enough about me, how are you doing, I haven't heard from you in a while?"  
"I'm sorry to hear that. You know your welcome to come live out here with me, there are some excellent schools around where I am, and the University is excellent for when you're ready for college. I'm doing just fine, its nice and quiet here, and Giles is keeping my busy with work, and I love teaching. I'm hoping that they'll decide to keep me on for a few years, I would really hate to have to move again."

"Well, Giles should be home in a few hours, but you're more likely to get a hold of him at the council."

"Alright sweetie, I'll give him a call there. Keep my offer in mind, your welcome here anytime."

"Thanks for the offer, but I just got settled into school, and I'm making some really great friends, so I think I'll stick it out being lonely at home for the time being."

"I'll talk to you soon Dawn."

"Bye Willow, keep in touch better."  
"I will." I hung up the phone with a rough feeling in my stomach. I hated the idea of Dawn spending so much time on her own. With everything that the lot of us had been though in the past few years I knew it must be terrible for her to be by herself. Even I looked for human contact on some occasions.

I looked at the clock, which was quickly working its way to eight, and decided to try Giles at the Council, and then go out and find myself some kind of dinner before all of the local places closed. Everything closed early here, and not because of the dangers of what went bump in the night, because as far as I could tell, nothing went bump here, regardless of the solar status; things closed early here for one reason, people went home early and spent time with their families. Everyone turned in early here, by their own choice. And businesses responded to this by closing around eight or nine o'clock.

The phone rang several times before the machine kicked it. "Thank you for calling Giles Rosenberg Summers and Harris. There is no one to answer your call at the moment, but if you know your parties extension, you may dial it now. Otherwise stay on the line and you will be connected with the voice mail system." Leaving a name like the Watcher's Council on the recording had seemed like a bad idea to Giles. The Council was listed the same way in the phone book, keeping it as anonymous as possible. As far as the outside world was concerned we were a research organization that specialized in obscure and occasionally occult texts. Most everyone left us alone. I dialed Giles extension and waited for a response. "Hello, you have reached the Office of Rupert Giles, I'm sorry that I am unable to answer your call at this time, but it you leave your name and your phone number I will get back to you as soon as I can. If you need immediate assistance you can dial the secretary's extension at 259 or the operator by dialing zero. Thank you and have a nice day."

"Giles, its Willow. I have been looking over this text for the past week, and I think that I may have found someone that can help us. It took some searching, you know the type that you don't actually know about me doing. And I have found some references to the symbols that appear in the text that you sent to me. The material is mostly associated with a Linguistic Anthropologist that fell off the radar some years ago. He's also an expert in Ancient Egyptian, so he could be a big help. Unfortunately he's also associated with the United States Air Force, so I wanted your go ahead before I contacted Riley to help me get access to this guy. I also wanted to see if you could find anything in any of the Watcher archives about him, before I go forward. Give me a call back on my cell phone; I'm going to be out for most of the evening. The man's name is Doctor Daniel Jackson. Thanks for your help with this. The rest of the text is fascinating, it talks a lot about the Egyptian gods and their reign, I'm starting to believe your theory that they where actually demons. The more I read, the more plausible it seems to me. Unfortunately the fact that I have no clue what these symbols mean is putting a damper on most of what I'm reading. Anyway, give me a call as soon as you can and try to spend a bit of time with Dawn, I think she's lonely." I hung up the phone and set out to get some food for my poor aching belly.

I had never had much knack for cooking, least of all any kind of meal that would sustain myself. Cookies I had become very good at making while still living in Sunnydale, especially when even one of my spells would go wrong, but I was far removed from those days, now I spent much of my time either going out to eat, ordering in or buying pre-made food, to save myself from my own cooking. Life in Vermont was really very good, but something told me in my gut that my quiet back woods life was going to soon come to a crashing halt.

Part 2: Given the go ahead

My cell phone rang as I left the Co-Op, my one open choice for healthy food at almost eight thirty at night. My hands laden down with bags caused quite a scuffle as I tried to balance them and grab my phone, ending with one of my bags on the ground. The upside was it was the bag with my veggies and not my eggs.

"Giles?"

"Yes, good evening Willow, I just got your message." I could hear him taking off his glasses and polishing them, his voice muffled by the proximity of the receiver to his mouth. "I don't see any reason for you not to contact Riley about contacting this Dr. Jackson; though I would like you to have him do some looking before he connects the two of you. I needn't remind you of our past dealings with the United States defensive forces."

"Giles, I am well aware of the risks involved. But you know my curiosity, I can't deal with not knowing what the other half of this text might have to say. I have these symbols in the middle of sentences, and my Egyptian isn't nearly up to trying to guess at what they might say, even within context, the nuances of the language are not quite as easily grasped by my mind as Sumerian was. Maybe I'm just getting old, but languages just aren't coming to me like they used to."

"I seriously doubt that your getting that old yet, Willow. You are still only in your twenties. But your right, Egyptian is a difficult language to master completely, especially since you have been learning to read it out of text books, and not properly through a course. Give Riley a call, perhaps tomorrow, I think he is still in Russia, and we wouldn't want to wake the poor boy up, he works such odd hours."

"Yeah, Sam said he would be in Russia at least until early next week. I talked to her a few days ago, before I had decided that I would definitely need help on this one. Anyway, I'll give him a call after work tomorrow, and then we'll see what happens from there."

"Good, good. So, how is everything going where you are? You know both Dawn and I miss you very much. Some of these Watchers over here get very stuffy. I would love to have some of you children's' youthful energy to liven this place up."

"Everything is great here. I miss you all too, you know, you could bring Dawn by the Council sometime, I can guarantee that she would liven the place up a bit."

"Yes, I do have no doubt. With her budding Wicca craft that you have insisted on teaching her I'm also sure she would manage to set the curtains on fire as well. She's almost as good at successfully casting a spell as you were when you were her age."

I smiled, remembering back to the days when every spell I cast did everything it could to go wrong. "And look how I turned out. You may want to re think leaving Dawn at home alone all the time then. I wouldn't want your nice house to burn to the ground."

"Ahh, yes, but I learned well from you, and have taken some very much needed percussions in the house, including an anti witch craft charm on the building. Dawn can blow up anything she wants to in the safety of the back yard."

"You wish you had thought of that with me, don't you?"  
"Well, it would have saved some invaluable books from burning quite suddenly."

"If you recall, that was Xander that set the book on fire not me, and it was only a few pages, namely the ones that had allowed him to set the book on fire to begin with."

"Yes, we are all fortunate that the Latin witch craft book no longer has the translation for any derivative of 'Fire,' for now Xander can't tell my books to burn. Not that he is anywhere near my books currently. How is our friend? He's in Chile with his new charge, is he not?"

"Yeah, he's still in Chile, though I would have thought that you would have talked to him before I would have."

"I talk to him about work; he tends not to tell me about the more personal things in his life."

"I wouldn't imagine he would. Last time we talked he was fine, though that was almost two weeks ago, before I got engrossed in this translation."

"Very good, well I must let you go, I have to get back to the house and make Dawn's lunch before I go to bed. I will talk to you soon. And I will put one of the training watchers on the look out for anything about Dr. Jackson that might have found its way into the archives."

"Thank you Giles, and don't forget to spend some quality time with Dawn. Take her out to lunch, spend a Saturday with her. I know she would love the company and you could use the break."

"I'll do just that. Good Bye Willow."

The line clicked dead, and I picked my discarded bag from the ground before making my way back to my car. There was nothing I could do until I talked to Riley the next day. I know I could call Sam, but I feel less awkward asking Riley for a favor, possibly it had something to do with the fact that I had walked in on the guy one to many times in the shower to feel in anyway uncomfortable around him. I don't know, either way I would wait to call him after work the next day, and hope that I didn't wake him up with his crazy schedule.

Part 3: Talking to Russia

The next morning dawned clear and crisp, a perfect April day in Vermont. I opened the window in my study just enough to let the clean air in, and set to work finding all the information I had gathered on Dr. Jackson, before going to work. Most of what I had found on Dr. Jackson was some eight or nine years old. His last published attempt had been almost nine years before, something about his theories in Egyptology. His research lead him to believe that the Ancient Egyptians may have been connected with aliens, which granted was about as far fetched as Giles theory that they were demons. And on this note, I was hoping that he would be able to help me. That was provided that he was still alive. Not long after his last article he was supposedly killed on a military excursion. It doesn't say where he went, only that he died, only to reemerge about a year later and take up residence in Colorado Springs. Several years later he died again, only to once again reemerge a year later. This guy had died more often then Buffy had, so either he was highly eccentric and liked to go into hiding for years at a time, or this was a cover-up of some kind. Either way, I was calling Riley to get me the full scoop.

Work went by quickly, and I set aside the assignments that I had received from my class, a stack of papers that could rival the Leaning Tower of Pisa, and went to work calling Riley. At one thirty in Burlington, it would only be about eight thirty in Moscow, which is where Sam said he would be. I clicked my cell phone shut and picked up my office phone. As in some skewed sense this was a business call, plus the charges would most likely be in country, due to the strange phone system that the US government seemed to have built for their officers outside of the nation, possibly to try to trick those of us that where still in the states into thinking that our loved ones where not somewhere on the other side of the globe, most of us knew better.

The phone rang five times before anyone answered. "Finn, here."

"Riley, its Willow, do you have some time to talk?"

"Yeah, I'm just in the car, I've got about a four hour drive ahead of me, so you have all the time in the world."

"I don't think I'll need that much time, but I do need to ask you a favor."

"I wouldn't expect anymore from the Council's newest researcher. What can I do for you? Wait, is this in anyway legal?"

"We'll see. You know me too well. Anyway, I have been doing a translation for Giles, most of the work is in Ancient Egyptian, which I can read, if slowly. Unfortunately, the rest of the work is in some other language, one that I haven't been able to find any reference to, other then some obscure military references, that I stumbled across when I was _not_ hacking the Area 51 data base. The reference that I came across did nothing to help me decipher the text, but it did give me a name to look into."

"Willow, you really do need to stop hacking into government organizations, one of these days they are going to catch on."

"Yeah, I know. And with my contact with you I haven't been doing it as much, but since I knew you were going to be out of the country, I tried to do as much as I can without you, before I bothered you."

"That's very kind of you, but I would rather you just call and ask, I have a much higher level of clearance then you do as a civilian. Now I know that you have received a minimal level of clearance after the Initiative fiasco, and since the government has been using your encryption software for most of their systems, but I'm still the best source you have."

"And I appreciate it. Now, I understand that you have four hours to talk to me, but I don't have that kind of time, so here's what I need. Doctor Daniel Jackson is a Linguistic Anthropologist that, nine years ago was shunned by his collogues for his radical theories on Ancient Egyptian life. He has since been linked with the US Military, working on a project in deep space telemetry. Now, what I don't get is why a Linguistic Anthropologist would be working with the military in listening for alien radio waves, or what he could possibly be contributing to the project. Anyway, I think that he is the only person that can help me with this translation. I really just need some kind of hint, and I can do the rest of the translation on my own, I just need some kind of Rosetta Stone to give me a push in the right direction."

"So, what do you want me to do, get in contact with Jackson and have him call you?"

"That would be one way to help me, another would be to give me a bit more information on Dr. Jackson and the kind of research that he has been doing. I may not even have to talk to him to get the information that I need, as long as I can see the research that he has been doing."

"You want me to get you classified government files."

"Or get me in contact with Dr. Jackson, who I shouldn't know anything about anyway."

"Oh, fun. I always enjoy your calls; you make my life so much easer."

"Watch the sarcasm, buddy. Can you help me or not."

"I'll help. Give me a couple of days. I should be back in the states tomorrow. I'm heading to the base now to get on a plane. Why I couldn't just fly out of Moscow though I don't know."

"Well, I'll be looking forward to your call, as it is; I have plenty of work to do until then. How is it that a five to seven page paper assignment always seems to yield ten to twenty page papers?"

"You're the teacher, not me."

"I'll talk to you soon Riley."

Only a few more days and then hopefully I would be able to finish this translation, and get it off my mind. Though the thought of working with the military again in any capacity scared me a bit, I knew that Riley wouldn't knowingly put me in any kind of danger. But still, I had a continues feeling that my life was going to change. Maybe for the better, I shouldn't be so pessimistic.

Part 4: Electricity Magic

I gathered my things from my school office and put them all in my messenger bag, threw the strap over my shoulder and picked up my laptop. With no more hands to switch off the light, I used a small burst of energy to flip the switch, and then the door behind me. With a satisfying click the door was locked, and I was free to head home.

For the most part I don't use my magic for anything big. There is nothing in Burlington to really give me any need to. At home I use it to basically power my house. It may be because I have been living in Vermont for so long, but I feel the need to conserve electricity whenever I have the opportunity. I use my magical energy in the same way that everyone else would use electricity. In doing this, I burn enough energy to keep my power levels at a manageable state, otherwise I get bleed through and I tend to set things on fire, or bring my plants to life; after about the fifth plant that randomly struck up a conversation with me, I decided that I needed somewhere for my energy to go. So, instead of spending and hour of my time everyday meditating, or something equally as time consuming, I channel it into keeping my lights on, running my stove, when I chance my own cooking, or to heat the water in the bathroom, the upside to this is I save lots of money each month, especially in the winter, and I never run out of hot water. When I'm not at home I do little things to keep my levels down, I use my powers, not for spells, but to turn on and off light switches, make copies for my classes, and other small tasks throughout the day. This insures that nothing like dancing chalk ever happens again.

I know very well that the coven in England would frown pretty hard if they knew what I was doing to keep myself grounded, but I tried all of the different things that they wanted my to do to keep myself centered, each of which was painful, stressful and time consuming. I almost never cast actual spells, which keeps my alignments in the universe balanced. I know that it sounds dangerously close to what was happening before Tara left me the first time, complaining of me using my abilities to often, but the difference is, I use my power to run the washing machine while I do my laundry, not to clean my clothes without any effort on my part, or to keep the flam on the stove while I cook my dinner, instead of conjuring up a meal. Plus, the absence of electricity in my house makes it that much more earth friendly, though I can no longer take my car into servicing because I confuse my mechanic a lot, being that there is never any gas in my car.

At home there was a message flashing on my answering machine, one of the only things in my house that was powered by good old fashion electricity, because I couldn't keep things running when I wasn't home. It was the only thing, besides my clocks, that I felt needed to continue running when I wasn't home, it would be silly to have an answering machine that only ran when you where actually in the house, and the clocks just never seemed to keep the right time when they didn't have anything keeping them going.

"Willow, I have not come across anything about your Dr. Jackson in the files we have here, but I have found several more texts that utilize the same symbols that are found in the document that I sent to you. The curious thing is that only one of these I have here is also partially in Egyptian, they are each in different languages, but the extraneous symbols are all the same as the ones that are in your document. I will be sending copies of each of these to you this evening, and I hope that they get to you soon. I will be out of the office tonight, as I took your advice and I am taking Dawn out tonight, to give her some time away from the house. Though I think I have been talked into going to see some silly teen movie, and if that is the case, you owe me one. Well, leave me a message either at home or at the office, I would love to know how Riley is doing, and if there is anything to report on your findings thus far. And please let me know when you get in touch with Dr. Jackson, I would like to know how that goes. Good evening my dear."

I called Giles back quickly, giving him a run down on my conversation with Riley, and then pulled out the fixings for a nice salad, and started the stove to grill some chicken to put on it, and settled in to read some extraordinarily long and dry essays. Even in Linguistic Anthropology I would like for there to be one or two puns or even jokes to break up the dryness of the statistics.

Part 5: Meeting the Team

I showed up at home three days later to find Riley sitting on my stoop with another man that I had not met before. He was fairly tall, though coming from me just about anyone is tall, short brown hair, glasses and a very nice build.

"Willow, we were just starting to wonder where you where." I cocked my eyebrow, wondering who _we_ where, and why they happened to be sitting on my front steps.

"Riley, you know where the spare key is, why didn't you just go right in?"

"Because I didn't want you to enter your own house to find a stranger inside, I thought that would be a bit more of a shock then you needed." Riley indicated the man standing next to him. "This is Doctor Daniel Jackson, Dr. Jackson this is Willow Rosenberg, she is the Linguist that I was talking to you about."

Dr. Jackson extended his hand out to me, and I took it without so much as a thought. "Ms. Rosenberg, with all that Mr. Finn here has said about you, I'm surprised that you don't have a PhD attached to your name."

"No, I haven't officially gotten my college degree yet, though I have honorary ones from Harvard, Yale and Oxford. I am currently working at the state university here as a visiting lector. I hope to finish my degree this year and officially graduate, though the school that I was attending was destroyed in the Sunnydale disaster."

"I must say I am very impressed with your résumé. Mr. Finn has told me a little about what you have been working on, and your theories surrounding Ancient Egyptian Architecture, which I must say is a bit out of the realm of Linguistics."

"Why don't we all step inside and finish this discussion. My neighbors already think I'm strange enough, the military presence might frighten them even more, as it is poor Mrs. Henderson wont even lend me a cup of sugar." I unlocked the front door and ushered the two men inside. I gave a quick glance over my shoulder to see if anyone was watching the area. About halfway down the block there was a black van that looked a bit to suspicious, I waved in its direction and could almost feel the disappointment emanating from the vehicle. The military always thought that they were being so very clever.

"Dr. Jackson, you might as well ask your friends to come inside, that microphone wont work inside the house." Dr. Jackson looked a bit shocked, but nodded and went out to tell the nice people that were spying on my home to come in. I had made very sure that no surveillance equipment could be used inside of my home, mainly to keep anyone from investigating the reason that I used so very little electricity, it also kept the government from keeping any kind of tabs on me. The Scooby gang had been targeted by the government ever since the Initiative incident, and I had come home more then once to a tapped phone line or a bug in my flowers, those very quickly got old. Now any device that was used for recording that entered my house would just pick up constant static.

Dr. Jackson entered the house with three other people, a blond severe looking woman, an older man with salt and pepper hair, and a tall black man that gave off an interesting vibe that was very much unlike any other person that I had ever come across. I filed it away for later speculation, as Dr. Jackson was introducing the three people.

"Willow Rosenberg, this is General Jack O'Neill, Colonel Samantha Carter and Murry."

"What, Murry, no title, or last name."

"I do not require a title or a 'last name' Willow Rosenberg."

"Ah, okay. And please call me Willow, I'm Ms. Rosenberg or Professor Rosenberg all day, this is my home time, where I'm just Willow." I gestured everyone to the seating that my front room provided, though most of the room was strung with my research or papers from my classes. "Please, have a seat, if you can find the space. Riley didn't inform me that I would be having any company."

"That would be my fault, I heard he was looking into someone under my command, and I wanted to know why. And when his explanation wasn't satisfactory, I asked for Dr. Jackson to meet with you." The man who had been introduced as General O'Neill shuffled some of my papers around into a pile and sat down unceremoniously.

"It's quite alright actually, I was looking to have some time to talk to Dr. Jackson as it was, and here you all are, sitting very conveniently in my living room."

"What exactly did you need to see me about?" Dr. Jackson look uncomfortable perched on the end of my couch, glancing at the notes that he had moved from their place on the cushions.

"Actually, the papers are right in front of you. It's a translation that I am doing for an organization over in England. You could say that they are involved in mythology and the occult. They found these documents in their vault when they moved buildings, and they were found intriguing. You are welcome to take a look at them; they aren't the only copies that we have."

"I would imagine not. And you can read and translate all of these languages?"

"All but the symbols that they all seem to have in common, the parts that are highlighted are all in a language that I can not read, nor have I found any reference to, other then in your own work, Dr. Jackson."

"Daniel, please. You say that you found reference to them in my work?"

"You can say I stumbled across them in the Area 51 servers when I was testing my software."

"Your software?" Colonel Carter look confused.

"I designed the inscription software that is used by most of the US government, specifically the more classified documents. I developed the software while I was in high school."

"You're that Rosenberg?" She looked as if her eyes might just try to take a walk outside of her skull.

"Yes, that would be me. Unfortunately for your government, you didn't try to tweak any of the codes, like I specifically told them to. You see, if they had changed even one of the codes it would have actually been difficult for me to get into your systems, as it was, you left all of my sample encryptions on the files. It's a mixture of one of the Tolkien languages and ancient Sumerian, neither of which people tend to speak, nor do they think to combine. If either of the languages had been changed, the program was designed to adapt to the change automatically, and it would have been that much harder to decode, as it was, I had the decryption on my computer, since that's the same system I use to code my own files. The only system that I can't get into currently is the Cheyenne Mountain complex security, which seems to be using a completely different system of encryption. You might want to consider using that for all of your systems. I have been trying for two weeks to crack it, and I still haven't been able to crack your high level security stuff. Though I have personnel files, why do you need linguists on a deep space telemetry project?"

"You what?" Three of the people in the room looked like they couldn't swallow correctly, only Murry, who I strongly believed was not really named Murry, and Riley looked calm and collected about the information I just shared.

"Willow, what did I tell you about breaking into government files?"

"Its easier to just break in then try to go though all of the red tape and hoops that they place in front of you, Riley."

"Willow Rosenberg, how is it that you can say so much without taking a breath, several times in your speech I was worried that you would run out of oxygen."

"It's a gift Murry, a well cultivated gift."

"Well, Ms. Rosenberg."

"Willow."

"Yes, Willow, before we can continue with this conversation, we must have a small staff meeting, to discuss what can and cannot be disclosed in this instance." General O'Neill looked a bit out of sorts. "Until then, do you think that you can hold off on breaking into our most secure files?"

"Depends on how long your meeting is going to be."

"I promise that it won't take too long. Just give us a couple of days."

"You have two days, and then I start my project again."

"For national security sake, we are going to have to confiscate your computer until we have a chance to return."

"I understand completely General." I handed the good general my computer, not mentioning that I had another one hidden under the floor boards undetectable in my bedroom.

"Thank you for your cooperation. And we will be contacting you in a day or two." I showed the group out of my house, leaving only Riley in the living room.

Part 6: Getting Comfortable

I locked the door behind my guests and turned back to the living room where Riley was making himself comfortable. "Your not leaving anytime soon are you?"

"Sorry, I don't have a flight out of here until tomorrow; I didn't think you would mind me crashing on the couch." He smiled at me, giving the impression that his stay wasn't just about the flight.

"That's fine, though you would probably be much more comfortable in the guest bedroom. So, why didn't you tell me you were brining the US Military to my house? You let them sit there in that van without so much as an indication that they where there."

"I knew that you would know. I really didn't have much of a choice with brining them; General O'Neill didn't give me much wiggle room. What about you, going on and on about exactly how your encryption software worked, you don't know who could be listening in, not to mention that those are military and government secrets that are being guarded."

"That isn't even a tenth of how the software works, its all much more complicated then a few language encryptions. No one can use any kind of surveillance device in my home anyway. And I would know immediately if someone was in my home that wasn't invited. There may not be a big flashy show when I walk in the door, but the house runs entirely on magic." I made myself comfortable on the couch and turned on the lights next to me, as the sun was setting. "I just wish you would have given me some kind of warning, I know it can be difficult, but look at all the information that's just sitting out here in my living room, I'm glad they weren't here long enough for Dr. Jackson to go through some of it. Not all of it is from Area 51, some of it I got from NID's web services."

"How?"

"I have my connections. Once you start designing software for the government you get your palm greased by some truly interesting people. NID asked me for some favors for their web access, and I provided them some interesting programs, all of which I can easily hack. I wouldn't give that organization anything that I couldn't get on to myself."

"I'm glad you learned something from me. I can't believe that you would really help them with anything. I mean, look at what they did in Sunnydale, and the havoc they reeked on the town."

"Yes, Mr. Initiative, I remember very well what happened in Sunnydale, I also remember who one of the ranking officers on that project was."

"Ok, yeah, I was there, but that doesn't mean that I knew anything about what was really going on behind the scenes."

"Yeah, no one did, except Maggie Walsh and NID, and you where Maggie's lap dog."

"Do we really have to have this out again? I screwed up, I get that, can we move on? We only have this argument every time the government comes up in any of our conversations."

"You right, it's old. So, why are you really staying tonight?"  
"I wanted to know what was on your other computer. What was on the computer that you gave to General O'Neill?"

"Nothing truly interesting, all of my school files, some research papers on Linguistics that I'm working on and one or two of Dawn's papers that she asked me to edit."

"So, nothing that would have to do with encryption codes or government case files?"

"Oh, yeah, I would definitely just hand that over to the military with out doing some very quick hard drive cleaning."

"That's what I thought. I'm here until they come back, I hate to tell you. You have some pretty high clearance in this country, but what their doing in that mountain, the deep space telemetry, even I don't have that kind of clearance."

"So you're here to babysit me until they get back?"

"Yep."  
"Are you really going to keep me from cracking their files?"

"I can try."  
"You mean you can pretend to try."  
"That too."

"I'll set up the guest bedroom for you. Bathroom is the second door on the left."

Part 7: Video Clips and Banter

The computer was under the floor boards, not the most original place to hide something, but in the end fairly affective. Who on earth would go snooping around someone else's bedroom and start trying to pull up floor boards, especially if there are trying to be discreet about it. I knew that Riley would be sitting at the door waiting to hear me begin typing, listening for the computer to turn on, the fan to go, or even for me to start rummaging around my room getting the computer set up. I said a quick silencing charm over the computer, though not over the room which would give away what I was doing. If Riley was really listening in, which I had no doubt about, he would also listen for the room going completely silent, not just for noises. I pulled up the floor and placed the lap top on my bed, quickly firing it up and setting my code cracking software, which I had just finished the previous fall, to work on the Cheyenne Mountain computer system. When I told General O'Neill that I had gotten the personal files from the computer, I neglected to say that I had also gotten several pieces of their old surveillance tapes. Most of it didn't make sense, but I decided to watch it again while the computer was busy with its cracking task.

None of the footage that I had gotten was more then about ten seconds long, and there were only five pieces in all, less then a minute of footage, but each was a bit stranger then the next. The first was of a medical lab, a man was lying on a table with his midsection opened, held back by forceps, and it looked like their was some kind of snake being held above the incisions, with different wires and bits being connected and disconnected to the serpent. It didn't look like the man was being operated on at all, but more that the animal was being manipulated. The tape cut off rather quickly after that. The second tape showed a series of different symbols that where on a large device, I couldn't see the device, since the camera was in close up on the symbols, only a few went by before that clip was also cut off. The next two were both in the same room, with a large wooden table. There were the four people that I had seen earlier in the day, but the man introduced as Murry had a strange symbol, different from all the others, on his forehead, the camera was placed too far away for me to really make it out. The man talking, a kind of squat bald man, was pointing to an object in the middle of the table, it had many strange buttons on it, and I couldn't figure out what they would have to do with deep space telemetry. The second of this series had an additional person, who I recognized from my dealings with NID after the fall of the initiative, whose name I couldn't remember, but I could look up in the future if it proved important. I was more interested in the insignia on the wall, it had a large symbol, a cone with a circle above it, and the letters SGC, I think the key to the hole of all the footage was in the understanding of those three letters. The last clip was of a puddle of water, and as far as I could tell, the most interesting one of all of the clips, because what would a base deep in a mountain do with a giant puddle of water. Military bases weren't known for their decoration.

I closed the clips, and went to look at the progress of my decryption program, when Riley knocked on the door, probably feeling that I had been way to quiet for way too long. I shut the lap top and placed in under my pillow, and answered the door.

"So, you found anything interesting yet?" Riley survalyed the room with his eyes, trying to see any kind of technology that I could possibly be using.

"Nope, nothing yet. I'll tell you when I have something that I think you would find interesting. Though I'm sure you'll not want to know."  
"Please, just wait until they come back. I know there going to be upset when they find nothing on your computer, and they will know theirs another one. Do you have one they might try to search at your office, or something that they could possibly find on the network?"

"Nothing, Riley, you know me, I cover my tracks pretty well. The only thing they could possibly find on the network would be any papers that I have published, which are all under pseudonyms anyway. It would take a lot of work for them to trace them back to me, and there's really nothing to find anyway. There all papers for obscure occult magazines, the kind that the watcher's council would be reading."

"Okay, but you and I are going to go out and have dinner. The only time I'm going to leave you is to sleep from here on out."

"Sounds like a plan. What do you want for dinner."

"Nothing you make."

"There's a great pub downtown, we can head there."

"Turn off the computer first."

"Only if you can guess where it is."

"Pillow, right side of the bed."

"How?"

"It's a bit bigger then the other one, I know how you like your pillows to be the same size."

"No one else would have found it."  
"I'm not anyone else."

Part 8: Top Secret Jobs and Confusion

It was two more days before General O'Neill and his team came back with my computer and complaints for me and Riley. Their first complaint being of course, that there was nothing on my computer that could in anyway damage the security of the Cheyenne Mountain complex, which in my opinion was a strange complaint. The second was that there was nothing of any of my research on the computer, so they had no real way of assessing what I needed.

"You didn't ask me for anything on any of my research, you just demanded my computer. If you want some of my research you are welcome to ask for some of it. I have several articles published in some of the more obscure occult magazines out there, mostly the kind that government types like you over look, but most of them you should really be reading."

"We looked your name up, we got a lot on your software, and some references to the tragedy at Sunnydale California, but other then that there are some classified documents that we couldn't get a hold of." Colonel Carter seemed very surprised that she had been unable to access my files, it was written all over her face.

"I'm sure there's nothing in those files that could help you learn more about Willow, really the best way to get information on her would be to just ask." Riley knew exactly what was written in the files that the General hadn't been able to get access to, he had written a fair share of them.

"That's what I suggested Jack. You know one of these days when I make a suggestion you will listen to me, and we will save a good deal of time." Dr. Jackson looked completely exasperated, surprising me a bit that he didn't have better control over his emotions after working for the military for so long, after all the time that I had spent with Riley, I had certain expectations for the US military, and this man was falling a bit short.

"Doctor Jackson, how long have you been working for the military?" Riley had been thinking the same thing apparently.

"Almost nine years, why do you ask?"

"You must not do much work in the field; your face gives away everything you are thinking." Dr. Jackson looked shocked, and then quickly wiped the expression from his face, leaving it looking board and impassive.

"What field work would I be doing, I work for a project on deep space telemetry."

"Which you still haven't explained to us; you work in deep space telemetry, yet your expertise is in Ancient Egyptian, what exactly would you bring to the project?" I was beyond curious, especially after the video clips that I had watched, now almost twenty times.

"I have sufficient knowledge in many ancient and current languages from all over the world, I speak twenty three different languages, and I can read and decipher more then that."

"Yes, but what on earth, or should I say, what in the universe does that have to do with deep space telemetry, don't tell me that ET is talking back to you."

"Well, no, not as of yet, but there is always the possibility that there will be a use for the kind of knowledge that I possess."

"I don't buy it, there's no feasible way that they are going to need someone to translate any form of ancient text, using earth languages. Not to mention the amount of linguists that Cheyenne Mountain is employing. Then there are the biologists and even the medical staff that can't be justified for the kind of operation that you are claiming to run. Up until two years ago you had a three star general watching over this operation, one that decided not to retire because of the project. Now tell me what could possibly cause someone, who how had more then served their country, to delay their retirement for almost eight years. I know it's not the very exciting field of deep space telemetry, because we all know that that could put anyone to sleep."

"How about you tell us what is in the classified documents on you, and we will think about telling you about what our project really does." If General O'Neill thought that that was a bargaining chip, then he was sourly mistaken.

"General, you don't need to use information as an agent in which to get information out of me. If I feel that the information contained in those files could in some way help you in what you are trying to do, then I would be more then happy to talk to you about it. As for now, I don't see any reason for me to discus my classified files with you."

"Well, Daniel here was looking at your translations here, and was impressed, we would like to give you some material, which we already know the contents of, and see if we could use your help further. You see, in our line of work we do need people who can not only read but speak many varieties of languages, and we have had your name come up on several different occasions, even before Finn over here tried to get information for you."

"Are you offering me a job?" That was just too strange; there was no lead up, just blatantly hanging it out on the table.

"Not as of yet, we still need to see if we can use you, but we are offering everything you would like to know about us, for your services, and everything we would like to know about you, plus you would be getting paid."

"That's very generous, but you must understand that I feel that it is far too good an offer. Not only would I have to discuss this with my current employer, but also with some other friends of mine." I had every intention to discuss this with Riley, Giles and maybe even a call into the president of the United States, who I had talked to on several previous occasions, mostly involving national security and software programs to insure this.

"The president is waiting for your call."

"Get out of my head."

"Willow Rosenberg, I do not see any way that General O'Neill could be in your head. Do you have telepathic abilities that would cause him to be able to see into your mind?" Murry looked truly confused, as if he had never heard any kind of slang or expression before.

"It's a figure of speech."

"Ah, I see now. Are you implying that General O'Neill stated something that you where thinking."

"Yes."

"Thank you, I understand now." I gave the General a confused look, but he just shook his head. I got the feeling that incidents like this must happen all the time. Maybe Murry didn't watch a lot of television.

"Well, you have some phone calls to make, and I'm sure some interesting conversations to have. I will leave this packet with you. It contains a paper to be translated and a non discloser agreement. Please look over both, my number is at the bottom on the translation, and not in English. If you want to take our offer, please call it."

They filed out of my front door, not looking back once. I turned to Riley as soon as they had left, lifting my eyebrow. He just shrugged and went to the guest bedroom; I was on my own with the phone calls. I thought that I should start with Giles, and end with the university.

Part 9: All the President's Men

My call to Giles was short and sweet, he basically told me to fallow my instincts. "Willow, you need to do what is best for you in your life now. We understand that that's not going to be with us for now, if you think that taking this offer will help you as a person, and give you a chance to be on your own completely separate from us, then its time. Just don't forget about us."

"Are you sure; are you all going to be alright with out my translations?"  
"I've been doing this a long time, I'm sure that I can muddle through the translations on my own. Though to be sure this is a legitimate offer, I would like you to do some more research before you go off."

"I will, I'm going to call to call the president next. I'm sure that if it's not a good choice then he will tell me."

"Say hello for me, I really do appreciate all the help he has given us with immigration."

"I will. Good-bye Giles."

"Good-bye my dear."

Giles was very supportive, and if I had been a more paranoid person, I would have suspected that he was being too supportive; possibly trying to get rid of me. I had known Giles for long enough to know that he truly wanted me to find my place. We had come a long way since Sunnydale, a long way since Scary Black Eyed Willow. We had all moved and grown. He had supported my decision to move away from the Watcher's Council, though he was disappointed that I wasn't interested in becoming a Watcher, and he had supported my decision to move to the United States again, and work at a college, though he insisted that we continue to have some kind of contact, which was where the freelance translations had come in. Now he was supporting me on striking out on my own, completely separate of the Slayers and Watcher's Council. I just hoped that everyone else did, if this whole thing worked out.

My call to the president wasn't as easy. We spent a full day playing phone tag, both of us busy when the other was free. When I finally got a hold of him, though his wife's cell phone, he had to call me back on a secure line, once he knew what I was calling for.

"Ah, Ms. Rosenberg, this been such a long time. How is it in Vermont?"

"It's beautiful Sir. I'm very happy that I moved here. How is your wife, I talked to her briefly on the phone, but I didn't get a chance to chat."

"Just fine my dear. Though I think she's getting a bit lonely now that Madeline is in college."

"And how is Madeline doing in school, she's a film major, yes?"

"I think it's Political Science this week, just like her old man. But she's doing well. I'll tell her you asked after her."

"Please do."

"Now, you wanted to know about General O'Neill."

"Yes, I have been offered a job at his facility, provided I pass a few tests, I just wanted to make sure that the offer is legitimate, and that I'm not running head first into the Initiative again."

"No my dear, it is quite legitimate. I feel that it is one of the more important projects going on here in the United States. I'm more then sure that you will meet any criteria that they feel they need from you. I was actually wondering when O'Neill was going to get around to contacting you. I pushed your file towards him many years ago. Of course then it wasn't quite as classified."

"I am honored that you thought of me. Though I'm curious, when exactly did you recommend me to this project?"  
"When you were first graduating form high school, at the time I wasn't the President quite yet. But we had been using your software, and I had gotten word of your visit from several different computer programming firms around the country, and I knew that they could use someone with your computer and technological know how. Now I feel that you are even more qualified to help them."

"Is there anything that you can tell me about the kind of work that I would be doing with them?"

"Not without you signing a none disclosure agreement. And I know that the general would have left you with one, but without proof that you have signed it, I can't tell you much. What I can tell you is that no matter what capacity that you will be used for this project, you will have some very exciting, hard working and trying times. There will be times when you hate your job, when you will get no sleep for days and will be run down completely. But in the end your work will be completely worth while, and those hard times will all seem small in comparison to the rewards that you will get out of it; lots of travel and new and exciting experiences."

"How exactly would I be traveling if I'm working for a project on deep space telemetry?"

"Now, that would be telling. Bottom line is, I think that you would be perfect for this job. Jump though a few hoops for Jack, you'll be rewarded in the end."

"Thank you sir, I will."

"And stop by the house on your way to Colorado, have dinner with me and the misses."

"Will do, and thank you again, I really needed to hear some of that."

"Anytime, my dear, I would be thrilled to have you join General O'Neill and his project. I really think that you will be a vital asset to them."

"Yes, Sir. I'll give you a call as soon as I hit Washington-Dulles. I would love a ride in a limo."

"As long as you come to dinner."  
"I will, good-bye Mr. President."

"Good-bye Ms. Rosenberg."

I hung up the phone feeling much better about the whole thing. The translation wasn't too hard to complete, taking me only a few hours. In the end it turned out to be a derivative of Greek, one that I hadn't come across before, but nothing I couldn't handle in an afternoon. The paper was a list of supplies that I would need when I headed out to Colorado, and a set of instructions on how I could acquire my plane ticket, complete with a stop off in DC. I knew that the president had been far to prepared for my call.

I called the university and gave them my resignation, telling them that I had been offered a job with the Air Force, which the letter that I had translated had instructed me to do. They were surprisingly understanding, telling me to finish out the week, that I had someone to finish out the semester for me. Goddess, but the government had thought of everything, including anticipating the need for some one to take over my classes so that they could have me straight away.

Riley helped me pack up my house and put it back on the market, though I had only bought it the year before. And I was off to Colorado, with a brief stop to visit the president and his wife for dinner.


	2. The Spring

Part 10: The Springs

I parted ways with Riley after dinner at the White House. He was needed back home as Sam, his wife, was expecting their first child, and the proud papa wanted to be home incase she needed anything. After almost a week of constant companionship, it was difficult to get on the plane to Colorado on my own.

I flew into Denver International Airport. The building was constructed to look like the mountains that surrounded the city. It was an interesting modern take on the back drop of the Rocky Mountains. The airport itself, on the inside could have been anywhere in the country, it was stark and modern and had that airport smell; sort of a mix between feet, metal and lighter fluid. As far as I could tell, every airport in the nation had that same smell, and the same white and gray walls that tried so hard not to look like a hospital, but in the end always did.

I got my bags and rented a car to Colorado Springs, where I called General O'Neill. We had spoken earlier, as I told him that I was excepting my jog offer, though he probably had known already. At the time he told me to call him once I got to the Springs, so that he could tell me where they had found me accommodations. He would have told me at the time of the first call, only they didn't have them yet.

"General O'Neill speaking."

"General, this is Willow Rosenberg. I have just arrived in Colorado Springs."

"Ah, Willow, I hope you had a good flight."

"As good as someone who hates flying can."

"How can you hate flying?"

"Do we really have to discuss that now, General? I would really like to know where I'm going to be unpacking, so that I can tell the movers where to send all of my things."

"Right, priorities, those are good things to have. Okay, you're apartment is at 5365 Beldon Drive. Your best bet is to find a gas station and get directions, because I am liable to send you in the completely wrong direction. Dr. Jackson will meet you there with your keys and a bit of a description of your job. Once you are adequately settled in, the two of you can make your way to our facility and we will go from there."

"Thank you General."

"Ms. Rosenberg, if you are going to be a member of my team, I would really rather you just call me Jack, your not military, you're a civilian."

"Thank you Jack, I will see you soon then."

Despite getting directions and a map from the gas station that I found right off the highway, I still managed to be consistently lost for almost an hour. When I showed up at the building, Dr. Jackson was already waiting for me. He was leaning on his car, or what I assumed to be his car. It was a new, very practical, sedan, green, and very much the regular Joe car; I wasn't sure why, but it struck me as being a bit odd for him. He was wearing jeans and a dark gray t-shirt, with his leather jacket thrown over his shoulder. If I wasn't gay, I would have definitely wanted him.

"Ms. Rosenberg, I was just about to send someone to look for you. Did you get lost?"

"Only for the past hour, but here I am, and I've found it. Now let's go see my new pad."

"It's not much to look at, it's pretty small, but it's the best we could do on such short notice. Do you need me to carry anything?" It was definitely his car, he leaned down and opened his door, putting his jacket on the drivers side seat. His jeans pulled as he leaned over, and I couldn't believe that I hadn't noticed him before this. For being Linguist and someone who works inside all day, he was sure well built. I couldn't believe I was thinking these things, I had just checked out a guy, and not just a guy, his butt. I was really sucking at being gay in the past two minutes.

"That's alright. I don't really have much in the car, just a bag and a carry-on. Though I will have to get this rental back to the airport, and get myself a car. This place is huge. I'm not at all used to needing a car to get around."

"Yeah, Burlington was pretty small, but I thought that you where from California before that, isn't that the land of massive interstates and big cities?"

"Not if you live in Sunnydale its not. I'm from a very small town about forty-five minutes from anywhere. It's a one Starbucks town, as my friends like to say. Or I guess it was, as its not there any longer."

"Yeah, I heard about that. There was a massive earth quake and the entire city just caved into the ground. I've never heard of that happening before."  
"Not unless you believe the Atlantis myths, though I guess that was a volcano and into the ocean, but the same kind of idea."

"Yeah, Atlantis."

"Anyway, we should get this stuff inside. I would really like so see where I'm going to be working as soon as possible, and today isn't getting any younger."

"I'll lead the way, are you sure you don't want me to carry anything."

"I'm a big girl Dr. Jackson, I haven't needed a big strong man to carry my things in a very long time."

"Please call me Daniel."  
"As long as you remember to call me Willow, I keep looking around for one of my high school teacher when you call me Ms."

The apartment was pretty small, but just fine for my single me-ness. There where two bedrooms, one that could easily be an office, provided I took the bed out of it. The whole place was nicely, but sparsely furnished, the kitchen was small, but fine for my cooking skills, in which I had very few, if you didn't count making copious amounts of cookies.

I placed my bags in the larger of the two bedrooms, leaving the unpacking to when the rest of my things arrived and joined Daniel on the couch in my living/dinning/kitchen area.


	3. Great Jobs and Bad Thoughts

Part 11: Great Jobs and Bad Thoughts

Daniel pulled out a folder that was straining at its seams. The front cover proclaimed that it was 'Top Secret'. "Willow, we're been watching you for quite some time, your name has come across my desk on numerous occasions, the only problem being, that we didn't think you had the kind of training that we needed. A few weeks ago, the General got word that someone was researching my files, from before I went to work for the air force. They keep pretty tight tabs on everything that has to do with the employees for this project, the project that you are soon going to be working for, if you still feel like it is something that you want to be doing once we have told you what we do. We started watching who was getting my articles, reading my research. Now, every few years there's an ambitious university student that wants to resurrect my ideas. They usually fail to get anywhere at all, but we like to keep track, incase anyone gets too close. You got too close. And then I recognized your name, a name that the president himself has brought to our attention. I looked again at your file, it has increased exponentially in the past two or three years, and I felt, and Jack felt, that it was time to approach you. So here we are, in Colorado Springs, and as soon as you have glanced over this material, I think we can take you to the general, and we can have a real look at your new job."

There where very few papers in the folder, despite how thick it was, it was mostly full of CD's filled with information. I excused myself from the living room and extracted my computer from the bedroom, and went back to join Daniel. "What exactly am I looking at?" The screen filled with complicated symbols, most of which I hadn't seen the like of outside of demonology texts. Some of the symbols I was familiar with, some of them where completely foreign to me.

"This is the research that I have been doing over the past decade. These are ancient texts that we have come across in our travels. Most of these languages are dead, the civilizations that used that have long since abandoned them, but some are still spoken and read. Which has given me an opportunity to teach others, which is a great help with translations."

"Where are you finding these texts, the globe has been scoured by generations of archaeologists, how are you finding all this, when they are grasping at straws to find a genetic link between modern humans and apes?"

"I'll leave that up to Jack to discuss with you."

"Is there anything else that you can tell me before we go?"

"Not much, only that you are going to fit in just fine. And I'm looking forward to working closely with such a brilliant mind." It may have been my imagination, but something told me that Dr. Jackson was checking me out. I quickly guessed at his age, maybe thirty-five, only about ten years older then I was, not too bad, and he had a great body, very well developed. Maybe we could spar sometime, get a bit sweaty. What on earth was I thinking, I'm gay, and there will be no getting sweaty with a guy. There would be plenty of women in Colorado Springs that I could get sweaty with, but not any guys, I'm gay.

"I look forward to working closely with you as well. What exactly will be my position with in this project?" Yep, he was definitely looking at me, or maybe I was projecting, because I was definitely looking at him. I wonder what he looks like with his cloths off? Bad Willow, focus on what the good Doctor was saying.

"I would like you to work as my research assistant. From what I've heard and read, you have the kind of work ethic that I have been looking for, and a good deal of knowledge that I would like to have rub off on me." Oh, that one was too easy. Either he didn't know that he had just made a very sexual reference, or he was trying to be subtle.

"Sounds great and maybe some of those linguistic skills will rub off on me." Bad Willow.

"I don't think you need any help in the linguistic department. I've read your file, you read and write almost as many languages as I do, and you what, 24?"

"Twenty-five, but thank you for the complement."

"Why don't we head over to Cheyenne Mountain, I don't want to keep Jack waiting, he tends to get cranky when I'm late, and that's about everyday."

"I'll help you work on that, I'm allergic to being late."

"And another good quality in a research assistant."

Daniel led me out to his car, leaving my rental to sit in front of the apartment complex. I turned to get a good look at my new home; it was plain and simple, but good enough for a place to sleep. Something told me that I wouldn't be spending much time there; otherwise they would have found me something a bit bigger, after they had seen my house in Vermont.

"Don't worry, you wont have to spend much time there. You'll have your own quarters at the base. Most of my team does, we tend to work long hours. My apartment only has the things that I don't really need at the base in it."

"You completely just read my mind."

"Yeah, well…great minds do think alike."


End file.
